Damn Academy

Shadow City (11)

Hailey could hardly believe the scene before her.

“How… how could this happen…?”

Then she realized, too late, that Damian had a firm grip on her waist. The pressure was so intense it felt like her flesh was being pinched painfully.

“I… I’m fine, Damian.”

She hastily pulled away from his hand, trembling as if she were a naked person thrust into the biting cold of midwinter. As the leader, she couldn’t afford to show any signs of losing her composure.

“Senpai.”

“I’m… fine. Really.”

Hailey rose to her feet and gazed at the city. Parts of it were so devastated that the phrase “crumbling away” came to mind.

The area that had collapsed from the explosion included Silberin’s mansion. She couldn’t fathom what had transpired or who was responsible, but it was certain that without Damian, the entire art department would have perished.

They were still too early to feel safe.

“Debris is coming down!”

A crew member on the aft deck shouted loudly.

Like a relentless barrage from a catapult, the remnants of the city rained down indiscriminately.

The ship rocked violently again as the fallen debris stirred the waters beneath.

Looking up at the sky, she saw a massive chunk of rubble hurtling toward the ship like a boulder.

“Everyone, stay still!”

Zenia shouted, standing on the mid-deck, raising her hands from below to above.

A blue magical energy flickered from her palms, and soon the seawater began to rise.

In that moment, the water formed a long circular tunnel, enveloping the ship. It was overwhelmingly large, enough to encase the massive hull entirely. The crew members watching were awestruck, holding their breath at the display of power that surpassed that of an ordinary student.

“Just a little more, just a little more.”

As the rain of debris began to subside, the enormous water tunnel returned to the sea.

Zenia, having poured all her strength into the spell, lost her balance as the ship swayed slightly and fell forward.

Damian rushed to her side.

“Senpai!”

As he supported Zenia, she looked at him with a weary expression and said,

“You saw my power, right? Hey, did you think you were the only special one here?”

“…Are you alright?”

“I… I don’t know. I feel like I’ve eaten something wrong and am seeing illusions. Maybe I was just imagining things and trying to stop something that wasn’t even there.”

“Senpai, you saw it correctly.”

“Right? I saw it correctly, didn’t I? I don’t know what I should do here.”

“…We just have to wait for the ship to leave the harbor.”

“If we had been just an hour late, we would have been caught in the explosion. Was it Doppler’s doing? Damian, did you know?”

“There were many signs. But I… I never thought it would unfold like this.”

“Damian, what on earth…?”

It could be said that Damian had saved the entire art club. Zenia stared into his eyes.

He wore the same calm, unwavering gaze as always. Zenia couldn’t comprehend how he could remain so composed in such a situation.

Then, suddenly sensing a strange energy, she found herself at a loss for words.

“Newbie… you….”

In an instant, blood trickled from one of her nostrils due to the sudden exertion, and her eyelids trembled with effort.

“Senior, I think you need to rest.”

Other club members approached, supporting Zenia as they headed toward the cabin. Even in a half-faint state, she couldn’t tear her gaze away from Damian.

The ship regained its stability and gradually began to pick up speed. Thanks to Zenia’s magic, they managed to safely leave the city behind.

Hailey stood at the rear, her face set in a grim expression as she gazed at Claridium.

Panic-stricken citizens were crowding in front of the harbor. They began to board any ship they could, regardless of the danger. There was no distinction between nobles and commoners.

Screams, filled with terror, pierced through the sound of rain and thunder. People cried out for help from the harbor, while others threw themselves into the sea, having lost their ships to looters. It was truly a scene of chaos.

She thought perhaps she was witnessing a moment of historical disaster that would be passed down through the ages. Her body trembled, still unable to shake off the shock.

Damian approached Hailey, also gazing at the hellish city.

“There’s no need for you to be here like this.”

“…Newbie, is it really okay for us to just stand by like this?”

Damian was silent for a while. Hailey, unable to bear the wait for his response, turned to look at his face.

“Senior, I think Zenia’s condition isn’t good. Could you go check on her?”

“…What are you planning to do?”

“I’ll keep watch on the deck until we leave the sea gate. I’m fine.”

“I’ll stay too.”

Damian shook his head.

“You are responsible for the club members. If you waver, the members will waver as well.”

Damian’s words held weight. She needed to find her composure quickly, even if it meant taking a moment to rest.

“I’ll be back soon.”

The Dopplers, clad in the guise of guardians, stood upon the remnants that once were the estate of Silverin.

They mimicked human forms, yet they did not mimic the bonds of humanity. No idle chatter or jesting passed between them.

One by one, the Dopplers began to lift the debris. They searched for a long while, but within the ruins, not a single corpse was found, not even an ant.

“Cease the search.”

The Dopplers halted their work, awaiting the next command.

It was clear that Demian and the art department had left Claridium before the explosion.

The outcome was entirely different from what had been anticipated.

One Doppler spoke up.

“Why did Demian not die?”

“…”

And the Dopplers, scouring the mansion, offered no reply.

He should have perished in the sewers, ambushed by a Doppler. Even if he had survived there, he should have drowned, trapped beneath the rainwater. Even if he escaped the sewers, he should have been caught in the explosion, dying alongside the art students.

Yet Demian had slipped through all those traps with ease, surviving. The Dopplers could not comprehend the gap in their information.

How had he survived?

It did not take long for a conclusion to form. Demian should have died in some manner, yet he had evaded disaster as if he had foreseen it all.

In the world of humans they had studied, there existed beings capable of twisting even the fate of death.

In the minds of the Dopplers, there was but one answer.

“The Prophet.”

That being would become the greatest variable in the events to come.

As one Doppler spoke, another began to chant with a murderous intent.

“Prophet… Prophet…”

They descended from the ruins of the mansion, their bodies swaying as they began to move.

*

Zenia was drenched in sweat, as if suffering from a high fever, the aftereffects of having nearly exhausted her magical energy.

Lilith placed her hand on Zenia’s forehead. It burned like a fireball. It seemed the result of being left wet in the rain for too long.

“You feel like a furnace. We need to get you out of these wet clothes first.”

“Let’s hurry.”

A few male students turned away. Then the female students encircled Zenia, swiftly undressing her and draping a gown over her.

Hailey entered late, squeezing between the girls to look down at Zenia.

“How is she?”

“The fever is intense, and the magic drain is severe. It seems that using magic while in such a poor state has caused this trouble.”

“First, let’s give her a potion to cool her down. Jenia has a strong recovery ability, so she’ll be fine soon.”

Jenia mumbled, her mind not fully present.

“Newbie… newbie…”

Lilith asked, her face still etched with worry.

“Will she really be okay?”

“Yeah. This has happened before.”

Jenia mumbled again.

“Newbie… newbie…”

“Hey, I get your affection for Damian, but there are many ears around, so just hold on a bit.”

Jenia slowly opened her eyes and spoke.

“Haah… haah… where’s the newbie?”

“I understand your feelings for Damian, but right now, you need to focus on stabilizing yourself.”

“I’ve said it many times, I like older guys. And that’s not the important part… I saw the newbie’s eyes.”

“…and why does that matter?”

In a weak voice, Jenia called for Damian.

“…there’s no time for this. Newbie… call her. Quickly.”

“What’s going on? Does the newbie feel like a Doppler again?”

Jenia bit her lip and shook her head. Frustrated, she pushed away the hands that were trying to help her and rose to her feet. She staggered toward the cabin door.

“Hey, where are you going? You’ll get your clothes wet again because of the rain!”

Jenia roughly shook off the hands that tried to hold her back.

“Let go! Let go! I have to find the newbie.”

“What do you mean?”

Without giving them a chance to stop her, she flung the cabin door open and stepped onto the deck.

And there, she saw Damian standing quietly at the stern, his back to her, and she shouted.

“Newbie!”

Damian slowly turned his body. From his hands, two stitches soared into the sky.

“Senior.”

Looking into Damian’s eyes, Jenia felt a surge of certainty—her intuition had not failed her.

He would not leave with the others.

Zhenia drew upon every last ounce of her strength and shouted.

“Y-You… you crazy b*stard! You, you stay right there! Don’t move an inch!”

“…”

“I’m coming, so don’t you dare budge!”

The wind howled, and the chaos of the scene behind them was a whirlwind, yet Demian’s expression remained calm and serene.

“You can see into the heart, can’t you, senior?”

“Haah, that’s right. Haah, I’m sharp enough to read your eyes. So… listen to me.”

Demian shook his head. Then, out of nowhere, he pulled out a pinwheel and stuck it onto a post.

“There’s no one else in the city who can suppress Doppler but me.”

“No, Eternia will find a way. Professor Erzebet will discover a method… and wipe out Doppler for good.”

Demian shook his head again.

Zhenia knew too. This wasn’t the best answer. In this chaos, the remaining citizens would be devoured by Doppler without even a chance to resist. Even if Eternia prepared and sent support, by then, countless lives would have already been sacrificed. But still, she couldn’t let Demian be one of them.

“I have to go.”

“No. You can’t.”

“…If I can’t protect what I need to protect, I can’t live as myself.”

With those words, Demian climbed over the railing and jumped from the ship.

Zhenia rushed forward, her voice tearing through the air.

“Hey, you crazy b*stard!!!”

Hailey and the crew members in the cabin burst out into the open.

As Zhenia lifted her leg to follow Demian over the railing, Hailey quickly grabbed her.

“You madwoman!”

Zhenia, undeterred by the restraint, screamed at the top of her lungs for Demian to hear.

“Hey, you idiot! Come back! Come back while I’m still being nice! If you don’t, I swear I’ll kill you! I’ll cut off your damn ankle and hang it at the gates of Eternia!”

Tears welled in Zhenia’s eyes. Her legs gave way, and she sank to the ground.

“Hailey, did you know?”

Hailey squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head.

“What are we going to do about the rookie? Our rookie… our rookie… oh, what are we going to do? We need to turn back. Right now! We have to catch that madman!”

“…No. If we do that, we’ll never be able to turn back. And even if we return, we’ll just be a burden to Demian.”

The harbor was a mess. Citizens were desperately climbing onto any boat they could find, fighting to survive.

If the Golden Swallow were to dock at the harbor again, a throng of people would gather, and even the art department’s forces would be unable to manage the sheer numbers. And if among those boarding was Doppler, there would be no turning back.

Hailey pressed her body against the railing at the stern, gazing down at the sea.

Damien was advancing alone along the long, ice path that had risen above the water. The Golden Swallow was picking up speed, quickly distancing itself from him.

Once more, lightning struck the city, and an explosion erupted in another district. Even amidst the rain, flames and thick black smoke surged from one area, and the sound of screams echoed loudly. The crew members stood in shock, mouths agape, staring blankly.

Countless people boarded the ship, abandoning the city in a desperate exodus.

And among them, only Damien was moving in the opposite direction.

*

Cecil infused magical energy into the stone lantern. Instantly, the dim room brightened.

She sat at her desk and pulled out the research materials on Claridium magic she had acquired earlier.

Taking a deep breath, she began to flip through the first pages of the documents.

The Claridium-style Plantera project. It seemed to consist mainly of research records on candidates for magical beasts to be utilized in that plan.

She skimmed through the thick research materials. Upon confirming the bizarre contents, Cecil found herself muttering under her breath.

“What is this…?”

What caught Cecil’s attention was the entry on Doppler. While other magical beasts were described in a few pages—at most ten—Doppler’s entry was thick enough to be bound as a book.

A sense of foreboding washed over her as she bit down on a cigarette and lit it.

“Why… do I feel so uneasy?”

She scrutinized the Doppler entry closely.

It detailed the experimental records of Doppler’s learning abilities, complete with illustrations.

“What on earth is this…?”

[After sufficient interaction, Doppler achieved victory in repeated duels against a lower-ranking knight of the Empire in just four attempts. With no prior knowledge of swordsmanship, it had absorbed decades of human training in a single day.]

The materials meticulously documented the growth of Doppler’s swordsmanship skills. While many would laugh off the idea of a magical beast stealing human techniques, the disturbingly detailed records made it impossible to dismiss as nonsense.

As she read quietly, Cecil’s mind went blank for a moment, unable to turn the page. The blatant disregard for ethical research practices in magic was shocking, filled with unsettling content.

[The way to gain the upper hand in a fight against Doppler is not to engage. If one cannot kill it in battle, Doppler will learn the opponent’s techniques and become stronger. If that is not possible, the next best option is to kill it in one swift strike, under the assumption that no other Doppler is witnessing.]

[Doppler thrives on human civilization and, given time, adapts perfectly. In the realms of human language, culture, technology, and mastery, it can maintain or even exceed human levels of ability.]

[The only area where Doppler shows a lack of acquisition is ‘magic.’ It does not even reach the average human level. Interestingly, Doppler exhibited a peculiar curiosity towards powerful mages. The psychological mechanism behind this remains unknown.]

[]

To her, it was nonsensical content.

[…Doppler prefers humans as prey above all else. The more one understands the nature of this creature and its magical beast characteristics, the more unsettling questions linger.]

[There is no doubt that Doppler will make significant contributions to doll manufacturing, yet I cannot shake my concerns. Doppler is the best and worst creature to emerge from the land of death. I know that making such claims publicly would invite condemnation from the academic community, but my doubts remain unchanged. Doppler feels like a being created maliciously to dismantle what humanity has built.]

She wondered how they could safely manage and contain Doppler within the city. It was rare to find a magical beast research facility without incidents. From the research materials alone, Doppler appeared far more dangerous than wyverns or ghouls.

“……I would never go to a city that nurtures this kind of thing.”

To clear my head, I pushed aside the research materials and popped a petal candy into my mouth. As I savored the taste, thoughts of Demian suddenly flooded my mind.

“…I hope nothing’s wrong with Demian.”

As I lingered on this thought for a few minutes, someone began to pound on my dorm room door.

“Cecile, Cecile!”

It was my friend, Naias, calling in a frantic tone. Before I could even respond, the door burst open.

Naias’s forehead was slick with sweat, her hair clinging to her skin, and her eyes were wide, almost entirely white with fear. She looked as if a terrible disaster had just struck.

She gasped for breath, stammering her words.

“Cecile, Ce, Cecile. No, I mean, well…”

“What’s going on? Speak calmly.”

“A critical message just came in. There seems to be a problem in Cl, Clarity. I thought you should, um, know.”

Cecile dropped the cigarette she was holding.

*

Demian ran through the rain-slicked streets.

In a state of panic, he left behind the citizens rushing to the harbor, the buildings crumbling from the explosion, the wails echoing from somewhere, and he headed toward the ‘House of Love.’

The door, battered by the aftermath of the blast, had vanished, replaced by a fallen sign.

Inside, there was no sign of life. Demian pushed the sign aside and stepped inside.

The interior was eerily silent, as if the air itself had been stilled. Rain and wind poured through the shattered windows, pooling on the floor.

There were no sounds of children.

Demian immediately began to open doors, searching each room. He meticulously checked drawers, closets, and storage spaces. There were innocent scribbles on the walls, but not a single toy or piece of clothing belonging to a child.

It was as if they had foreseen this situation and fled far away.

Demian climbed the stairs to the second floor. Just as he felt a fleeting sense of relief that the children might be safe, he came face to face with a corpse and froze in place.

An old woman sat in an armchair, her throat pierced by a longsword. The white nun’s habit she wore was stained halfway with blood.

Demian approached the body slowly. As he examined it closely, he lowered his head in despair.

Once a candidate for sainthood, a prophet who twisted the fate bestowed by the gods. The end of one who sacrificed their life for the well-being of others was cruel and horrific.

The old woman’s once-bright eyes seemed to gaze beyond this world, and a faint smile lingered on her lips, as if she had cast off all attachments to life.

It was then that Demian realized.

The words she had clutched with her wrinkled hands, the message she had tried to convey, were the final prophecy she wished to share.

The last spark thrown by the prophet into a city foreseen to perish was none other than Demian himself.

He had no idea how this calamity would end. But there were more than enough reasons to fight.

Killing intent was gathering. Time was running out for Demian.

He grasped the prophet’s hand resting on the armrest and closed his eyes for a moment.

After finishing his silent prayer, Demian descended the stairs. The twisting sensation in his gut intensified, the malice thickening around him.

He stepped slowly out into the entrance.

Then, his gaze met that of a citizen. The citizen stood still, eyes unnaturally wide, fixated on Demian.

Soon after, from the alley’s mouth, vagrants and guardians emerged.

A carriage came to a halt on one side, and the driver dismounted, striding forward. The noble lady who had been inside followed, her expression serene amidst the chaos.

Demian looked around. Things that resembled humans crawled like spiders up the walls and roofs.

They gathered from all directions, slowly encircling Demian.

Before long, water began to backflow from the sewers, a green liquid rising gradually to his ankles.

Demian placed a hand on Priscilla’s scabbard, then changed his mind and drew the wooden sword.

—